Sunlight
by rockythehufflepuff
Summary: "He was sitting beside her bed in St. Mungo's holding her hand. His white shirt was corroded with dirt and for the life of him he couldn't remember where he had left his robes after the gala. But he didn't really care much. He was more concerned with the witch laying in the hospital bed. " (I own nothing.)
1. Part 1: It's the Same Waiting

Sunlight streamed through the window, lighting up the entire room, giving the room an eerie cheerfulness Draco Malfoy despised it. Really, he despised everything within a twenty mile radius. How could there be joy, cheerfulness, beauty in the world when Hermione was lying on the bed, clinging desperately to life?

He was sitting beside her bed in St. Mungo's holding her hand. His white shirt was corroded with dirt and for the life of him he couldn't remember where he had left his robes after the gala. But he didn't really care much. He was more concerned with the witch laying in the hospital bed. Gently, he pressed his lips to her hand.

"Malfoy," he heard Potter call to him. Scarhead had seen fit to spend the majority of the day in St. Mungo's, coming into the room every few minutes to check on his friend. "Maybe you should go home for a bit? Take a break? I can sit with her for a few minutes."

Draco was already shaking his head. Potter had given this same argument all day long. He didn't want to go home. He didn't want to leave her alone. He wanted to see her brown eyes when she finally woke up. He _needed_ her to wake up. "Malfoy," Potter continued irritatingly, "Scorpius has been asking about you and Hermione. Maybe you should tell him everything's going to be okay? You don't even need to be gone all that long. Just–"

"If I leave for half an hour, will it shut you up, Potter?" spat Draco. Potter glared at him.

"It might improve on your mood."

"I'm sorry if I'm a ray of sunshine, Potter, while my wife is clinging for her life."

"The Healer said that she should wake up within the next day or so. She's going to fine," Potter felt the need to explicate. Nothing had changed for Draco, he still hated Potter. The Chosen One was nothing more than an undesired menace.

"And if she doesn't wake up within that time, she could never wake up." His voice broke at the end of his sentence.

There was a small pause in which Draco was certain Potter was choosing his next words very carefully. "Whether you're waiting here or waiting at home, it's the same waiting. Get some rest, explain things to Scorpius. I promise I won't leave her." Draco knew that if he had to trust Hermione's safety with anyone, it would be Harry Potter. With a sigh and a nod, Draco stood up, already what he was going to tell his son.

* * *

Scorpius was sitting on the sofa of Draco and Hermione's small house with Ginny Potter. Hermione claimed that Scorpius was the spitting image of Draco, but the man was able to see much of his lovely wife in their son. He had Hermione's spirit. His grey eyes lit up the moment that Draco entered the house.

The four-year-old rushed over to where Draco was standing, his elegant white shirt in complete disarray. Draco pulled the child in a warm embrace. He glanced around the house, his eyes landing on the spot where only hours before he had found his wife lying with puddle of blood around her. He shouldn't have gone to the gala, he reprimanded himself again. He should have just stayed home with Hermione and Scorpius.

"Potter's still at St. Mungo's," Draco told Ginny. "He's sitting with Hermione for a little while." Ginny nodded, a guilty expression on her face.

"Any news?" Draco shook his head. No chance at all. Hermione was still lying on the hospital bed, still unconscious.

"She'll wake up," Ginny promised. "She's Hermione. She's strong." Draco had no doubt about that.

Draco told Ginny she could go. He knew he must have looked miserable, and not just because everything kept telling him so. He'd been sitting in that chair for almost twenty-one hours now. He knew how he must have looked. But in all that time, Ginny had been here with his son. She needed to rest too.

Ginny just shook her head in response. "Try again after you've showered and slept a little." She even raised her wand a little to prove she was serious.

Draco just smirked and did as she said.

He hated to admit it, but Potter was right about him needing a small break. He could feel the tension in his muscles slowly disappear as the warm water splattered across his skin.

He allowed himself to think of the night before once more. He had replayed the night a thousand times throughout the day, questioning what he should have done. How he should have prevented this.

It wasn't even so much that he wanted to go to the gala in the first place. It was all Hermione's idea. She wanted to help raise money for the numerous orphans that appeared following the war. Draco wasn't much in the mood for appealing to the wealthy benefactors that still despised him for what happened during the war. No, he wanted to go because Potter lost a bet with George Weasley and had to appear at the gala dressed in one of Weasley's new inventions. Throughout the entire night, it was going to change periodically to different ridiculous outfits, beginning with a chicken costume and allegedly ending with a toga.

So, of course, Draco was going to be there. He couldn't imagine a better use of gala time than to spend it relentlessly mocking Harry Potter for dressing in that ridiculous costume.

On the night of the gala, however, Angelina Weasley, who had volunteered to watch Scorpius for Hermione and Draco, fell ill at the last moment. Apparently, she had been feeling off all day, but ignored it, claiming she was fine. George firecalled them at the last moment to tell them how ill Angelina really was.

Unfortunately, practically everyone they knew was scheduled to attend the gala or had other plans for the evening. It was one of those rare moments that Draco desperately wished he hadn't freed all of his house elves, per Hermione's request.

Hermione, in the end, said that she was going to stay behind with their sleeping son. At the time, Draco was silently rejoicing. He hated galas, but he desperately wanted to see how ludicrous Potter was going to look in that costume. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. He simply couldn't pass it up. "Are you sure, love?" Draco asked her.

She just nodded. "I am sure. I've been feeling pretty tired myself lately. Don't worry about me. Have a good time."

So, Draco did.

But now, Draco did nothing but regret the night before. He should have just stayed with Hermione and Scorp. Or, at the very least, insisted that Hermione go in his stead. And they didn't even try to entertain the idea of bringing the four-year-old, not that it would have ended well.

But anything would have been better than coming home early to find Hermione laying at the bottom of the stairs with a terrifying amount of blood gushing from her forehead.

He would have gladly traded the image of Harry Potter dressed as a flower pot for Hermione to open her eyes, to come back to him. Hell, he would gladly have traded his own life for Hermione's.

* * *

When Draco returned to the hospital, he took his son with him. The moment Ginny had left, Scorp tormented Draco with questions about his mum. When he had found Hermione lying on the ground, he knew instantly that he needed to take Hermione to St. Mungo's, but he couldn't very well leave his son alone. Afraid to wait for someone to watch Scorp, he had taken his son with him. Scorp was confused and disoriented, still half-asleep, as they walked into the hospital with Hermione.

Eventually, the Potters arrived, volunteering to spend time with Scorp and possibly explain what had happened.

And Draco knew that Scorp had been dying to know what had happened to his mother.

Scorp climbed up onto the bed beside Hermione while Draco took the all too familiar chair beside the bed. Scorpius gently poked his mother's arm, hoping that this would wake her as it had numerous times in the past. But Hermione's eyes remained closed. Scorp glanced up at his father, as though his father would be able to fix everything like he had in the past.

But Draco couldn't fix this. He could only hope.

Healer Abbott entered the room then. Draco hadn't been able to remember much of Hannah Abbott from when they were in Hogwarts. And he was surprised when Hermione mentioned that she and Hannah become good friends in their years working at St. Mungo's together. He knew she was a good Healer and good friend to Hermione. He trusted her to know what to do.

"There's been no change, Draco," Hannah told him. _Can see that well enough for myself, thanks_, Draco thought to himself bitterly. "It might help if you spoke to her." Draco raised an eyebrow at the Healer's suggestion. Hermione had often spoken about patients like this. When their families would refuse to leave, when the Healers would see the hopeless expressions on the families' faces, they would offer a solution like this. Talk to them. Talk to the person in the coma. Draco remembered asking Hermione if it helped or not. She just shrugged. "Sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes, it helps the families. They're our patients, too, at times."

"Thank you, Hannah," Draco said quietly. Hannah nodded a little, mentioned that she would be by later to check on Hermione, and vacated the room.

Draco glanced back at his son. Scorpius hadn't said anything yet, but Draco could plainly see that his son was scared. And when his son was scared, Hermione told him stories. Draco didn't know if talking to Hermione was going to help or not, but he had a story and he was certain Scorpius wasn't the only one who needed to hear it at the moment.

With a deep breath, Draco said, "Scorp, you want to hear Mummy's favorite story?" Scorp nodded. "Well, it all started many years ago in this very hospital…"


	2. Part 2: The Story Begins

Draco didn't know much about what happened to Granger following the war. He knew what everyone knew. Potter and Weasley went off to train as Healers, while the smarter third of the trio became a Healer at St. Mungo's. And, of course, he had heard about Weasley's and Granger's break-up. There was an entire article about it in _The Prophet_. From time to time, Granger would appear in the paper, organizing events to force donations. There was much that needed to be rebuilt after the war.

But it wasn't until Draco pried opened his eyes to find Granger in her Healer uniform, sunlight streaming down on her face angelically, that he realized how remarkably beautiful she was. She had certainly grown up since their time at Hogwarts. He found himself questioning why Weasley had let her go.

_This is Granger, Draco_, he reminded himself. He shook his head and tried to sit up.

"Be careful, Malfoy," Granger said, not looking up from the piece of parchment she'd been studying. "That curse hit you pretty hard. You're going to be sore for a few days." He could see that clearly for himself. Pain struck him quickly, but Draco ignored it to lean against the pillows.

"How long have I been here?" Draco asked.

"Almost two days. Harry brought you in." Draco sighed, remembering what had happened. He and Potter can be cornered by seven dark wizards. He knew they should have waited for backup, but Potter had to be a hero. And Draco had to jump in front of one of the curses to save Potter's life. Thankfully, he'd been able to have an effective shield up to protect himself.

"So, you're my Healer, then?" Draco murmured. He was surprised, certain Granger hadn't training yet.

"I was the only one willing to work with you," she admitted. Draco saw her eyes glance over to his left arm. Instantly, Draco tugged his arm under the blanket, moving the Dark Mark out of sight. A small blush crept onto Granger's face.

"Just fix me up, Granger, so I can go." Draco found he couldn't meet her eyes as he said it.

So, she did. And they spoke no more of it.

* * *

That was until Draco appeared in the hospital a month and a half later. Draco blamed it all on potter's inability to know when to stop. He decided that he was going to request a new partner. But with his luck, Kingsley would probably give him Weasley. He wasn't sure which was worse.

Granger walked into the room, a determined expression on her face. "Malfoy," she greeted.

"Granger," he replied. "Come to fix me again?"

"What happened this time?" she asked. "Harry's down the hall."

"I don't know what happened to Potter," Draco stated. "I just fell down some stairs." Granger raised an eyebrow at that.

"You..fell down some...stairs?" she repeated in disbelief. Draco nodded. It wasn't technically a lie. He _had_ fallen down some stairs. He'd been pushed by a hex. And then bloody potter fell on top of him. He was going to start talking how many times he'd saved Potter's life. Maybe, he'd get some sort of reward.

Granger performed a variety of spells before telling Draco hat he was free to go. "Oh, and Malfoy," she said before she left, "thank you for protecting Harry." Granger was gone before Draco could respond.

* * *

Draco returned to the hospital three weeks later. Granger was shaking her head as she entered the room. He was struck again by how beautiful the witch was, even with her hair strewn messily into a bun. It was better this way than it was when they were kids. Of course, he _had_ known that Granger was beautiful at Hogwarts. The Yule Ball and Slughorn's Christmas party proved that rather aptly. "You're here too much Malfoy," Granger told him, piercing through his thoughts.

"I'm not here nearly as much as Potter is," Draco pointed out. Granger sighed and performed a variety of spells on his destroyed leg.

"What happened this time?" she wanted to know. Draco wasn't sure why she kept asking, probably wondering how much trouble Potter was always finding himself in. Merlin, Draco needed to get a better partner.

"I fell down some stairs, Granger," Draco stated. "Nothing to be too worried about." She pursed her lips and said nothing more. But in the back of his mind, Draco wondered if Granger was actually worried about him.

* * *

It was only a week later that Draco found himself in the hospital again. Granger had a worried expression on her face. But this was not an injury sustained during work. No, this was a deliberate attack on him by families who wanted retribution after the war. So, many people still hated him and his family.

And they had poisoned him because of it.

Thankfully, Blaise had arrived at Draco's flat when he did.

"For an Auror, you have terrible home security," Granger commented. A smirk appeared on Draco's face.

"You scared for me, Granger?"

"I'm just worried about your skills as an Auror if you can't even protect yourself." The smirk was quickly replaced by a large smile. And for half a second, Draco considered asking Hermione out to dinner. He shook the thought from his mind as quickly as it had come. She would never say "yes" to that.

"You don't have to worry, Granger," Draco told her pointedly. "I just...fell down some stairs."

She looked concerned for his mental facilities before returning to her work.

Draco was kept in observation for two days following the poisoning. But Draco didn't really mind. Granger would sit with him and talk. "Why did you become an Auror?" she asked one day. Draco shrugged.

"I wanted to make sure the Chosen One didn't get too big of a head." Granger rolled her eyes. "I wanted to do some good with my life," Draco added truthfully. He knew that his parents hated that he'd taken such a dangerous job. But Draco really did love every moment of it.

"Harry said that you two became friends during training." Draco shuddered at the thought. He and Potter weren't friends.

"We became...civil."

"And he requested you as a partner?"

"He told you about that?" Draco replied in surprise.

"Ron told me," she explicated. "Didn't say why he did, though."

"He didn't want me to be stuck at a desk for the entirety of my career," Draco stated. Stupid noble Gryffindors, he thought to himself.

"I don't understand."

"Granger, you're the only Healer here willing to work with me. Do you really think that the Ministry is going to want a Death Eater catching dark wizards? No, they wanted to show they were forgiving, but they really just wanted to sit me behind a desk to do the work that no one wants to do. Potter heard and asked Shacklebolt to partner with him. Merlin, he was in training and he was still getting the big cases. He could ask for complete control of the Wizarding World, and they'd just hand it to him. And if you ask me, the fact that he hasn't done that yet is a little disappointing." Granger chuckled a little. "Did you always want to be a Healer?"

Granger shook her head. "I honestly didn't know what I wanted to do until I took my N.E.W.T.s. I knew that I wanted to help people."

Draco learned many things about Granger that night. For instance, he never knew that during their third year at Hogwarts, Granger had been given a time-turner to help her complete her school work. Apparently, for some insane reason, she thought she needed to take Muggle Studies. "You didn't really though?" he asked, not fully believing what he had heard. "Honestly, Granger, were you mad? You're a muggle-born!"

"I wanted to see Muggles from a wizarding perspective," she protested. He couldn't help but laugh at her.

"Only you, Granger," he murmured. "So, is that why you were so on edge that year?"

On one level, Draco regretted that he brought it up. Because before he knew it, granger was lecturing about his attitude that year and how much he thoroughly deserved the punch she had given him. He rolled his eyes at the memory. Really, he'd been mocked for months afterwards because of it. "Well, you deserved it," she said after Draco explained the Slytherins' ruthless teasing.

"You're right," he admitted. "I was really startled when you punched me. Didn't know you had it in you." Draco looked away for her for a moment. "I'm surprised you never did it again, honestly. Merlin knows I deserved it the other years too." Granger fell silent once more, most likely remembering their days at Hogwarts. A curious expression passed her face.

"Why _did_ you hate us all those years?" Draco hesitated. He considered lying to her, but something told him that Granger would see through any lie he spouted.

"Well, Potter rejected my friendship, choosing instead to befriend the son of a man my father hated." Draco didn't bother going into details of how much his father complained about the Weasleys. They were blood traitors. They didn't deserve the pure blood that flowed through their veins. "And you? Well, you...were smarter than me. My father just hated that I wasn't smarter than a muggle-born. But more than that, you made me question everything they were telling me."

"What do you mean?" He chuckled a little.

"Merlin, Granger, I liked you for seven years and didn't know what to do about it."

She stared at him, eyes wide and unsure what to say. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, completely at a loss for words. Draco wasn't sure he had ever seen Granger like this. It was a funny sight.

"B-but, why?" She finally asked. Draco frowned. Didn't she know how amazing she was? He ran a hand through his hair, contemplatively.

"Because...well, you're like sunlight." She raised an eyebrow at that. "There was a lot of darkness there at the end," Draco admitted, not meeting her eyes. "None of us were particularly kind to you, but you still worked harder than anyone. There was no question who was the smartest in the class. I-I liked you because you were smart, so much smarter than everyone in our year. But I couldn't tell you that. And I couldn't understand how you could possibly forgive Weasley after everything, but you forgave him. I always hoped that you'd forgive me like that, too. You may very well be the most beautiful woman who's ever existed and you don't even realize it. And really, I don't think Potter did much to save the Wizarding World, I'm pretty sure it was all you. You're remarkable, Hermione Granger. And, I guess, I just wanted a little sunlight in my life."

She was staring at him again, taking in his words. Slowly, she leaned over and kissed his lips. Instantly, Draco returned the sentiment, finally receiving the kiss that he'd been dreaming about for years. All too soon, Granger stepped away from him, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. "I-I shouldn't have done that. I'm at work." She took a deep breath, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Then go out with me on Friday," Draco said, hoping his desperation wasn't too noticeable. She hesitated for a moment, clearly considering the offer. Draco could see that her big brain was looking at every possible angle. Finally, she shook her head.

"I don't think that's a good idea. I need to go back to my job. I'll be in later to check on you." She excused herself and quickly vacated the room.

She never returned. Hannah Abbott appeared in her place.

* * *

Following his time in the hospital, Draco sent flowers with a note detailing how apologetic he was for everything he'd done and said while they were in Hogwarts. He'd apologized once before when she and Potter spoke at his trial. But he wanted her to see how much he really had changed since those days at school. And he made a point to explicate that he would never call her a "Mudblood" again. She was so much more than that vile word. She actually quite perfect to him. He ended the note the same way he had finished their previous conversation. He asked her to dinner.

She replied quickly afterwards, thanking him for the flowers. At the end of the note, she rejected him once more.

So, Draco tried again. This time, he sent her what he knew she would love. Books. He sent her a first edition _Hogwarts, A History_ that he'd found in the manor. He'd asked Potter a dozen times what Granger's favorite book was and each time, Potter would just shrug. Finally, he murmured, "She reads _Hogwarts, A History_ a lot." Draco wasn't sure Potter was a great friend.

Draco could see the excitement in her eyes when he handed her the book. "You going to go out with me?" he asked.

"You can't buy me," Hermione told him matter-of-factly. "You can keep sending me things, but that won't make me go out with you."

"You're right, only my charming personality can do that." Hermione gave his smirk a pointed glare.

"Honestly, Draco, what do you want? Why do you even _want_ to go out with me? There's too much history between us."

"Like you said, it's history," refuted Draco. "Let it be in the past and go out with me. I'm not that person anymore." Granger looked pensive, and Draco knew that she was, at least considering it. And then her big head had to get in the way again. She shook her head once more.

"Actions speak louder than words," she muttered. She looked longingly at the book in Draco's hands, probably debating whether or not to reject the gift.

"Keep the book," Draco insisted. "It's yours regardless of whether or not you go out with me. But, in the end, you _are_ going to want to go out with me."

That phrase rolled around in Draco's mind. Actions speak louder than words. She wanted him to prove he had changed. And that was something he could as a plan was already forming in his mind.

* * *

Two weeks later, Draco returned to the hospital, this time covered in boils. Granger was gaping at him, rushing over to him as he entered St. Mungo's. Potter had undoubtedly told her how terrible the night had been.

She led him to a room, forced him to sit on the bed, and began performing a number of spells on him that he couldn't repeat if he tried. He felt better almost instantly. The boils were rapidly disappearing from his body, leaving behind a supreme exhaustion in its wake. "Lay back on the bed," Hermione ordered. "It'll help."

He asleep within moments.

When he woke again, his eyes immediately landed on the witch sitting beside his bed, reading the _Daily Prophet_. She wasn't wearing her Healer uniform, indicating that she was currently off duty for the time being. He sat up slowly, his body aching as he did so.

"What new?" he inquired.

"Nothing really," Granger said in reply, "only that the Malfoy heir decided to light Malfoy Manor on fire." Draco sighed. He knew the moment he entered St. Mungo's that she was going to ask about that. "And apparently, has lost all of his house elves."

"I blame you for that one, Granger," Draco told her immediately. "None of them wanted to paid for their services and left with my Mum to France. Now, I have to cook all my meals."

"And the Manor?" Draco hesitated. Certainly, the idea for destroying came from Granger in the first place. He could understand that she would never want to go out with him after what his aunt did to her in the Manor. But once he started clearing the house, he realized how desperately he wanted it gone. It used to be a lovely home, filled with the brightness of his childhood. But now, it was scorched with dark magic. Darkness surrounded the home. It was no wonder that he hadn't returned to the house in nearly two years, why his mother had moved to France to be away from it all. There was nothing redeemable about the house anymore. Voldemort had destroyed all of that.

Draco shrugged in response to Granger's question. "Even the manor needed a fresh start."

"Draco there was a lot of history in that–"

"I preserved what I could. And it doesn't matter. The manor needed to be destroyed after everything that happened there." Gently, he leaned forward and took her hand. "It's all gone, Granger. I let those beliefs die with the house. And I can prove it to you if you just let me take you to dinner."

"You're going to keep trying until I say 'yes,' aren't you?"

"Of course," he replied with a smirk. Hermione sighed.

"I suppose _one_ dinner wouldn't hurt."


	3. Part 3: The Best Story

The sound of soft rustling forced Draco to glance up at his wife, hoping desperately that she'd woken. Instead, it was just his son, moving around on his small portion of the bed he'd been allotted. Scorp had fallen asleep at some point during Draco's story. Sleep was sounding pretty good to Draco, too, but he knew he would never be able to fall asleep.

Potter walked into the room, dark circles stained under his eyes. He rubbed his eyes as he handed Draco a glass of water. Draco took it thankfully, barely noting that Potter was now taking the seat on the opposite side of Hermione's bed. Neither of them spoke for a time, letting the silence surround them.

This was how it had been for most of their professional lives. Silence. Potter had been amicable the day they both arrived for Auror training. And for some strange reason, the green-eyed annoyance seemed to take it upon himself to train with Draco. But in all honesty, Draco wasn't sure he'd have been able to get through the training without Potter's help, something he would never admit to if pressed. The other trainees were just waiting for Draco turn around and stab them in the back. They didn't trust Draco.

Draco had come to terms with the fact that he was most likely going to be stuck at a desk, doing the paperwork no one else wanted to do. But, of course, Potter couldn't let that happen. The man had a serious problem about needing to save people. So, Potter used his influence to make sure Draco got the work he deserved. Of course, Draco was grateful. He just hated that he nearly had to babysit the man. Honestly, Potter put himself in more life or death situations that anyone on the entire planet. Really, Ginny Potter owed Draco a thousand thank yous for the work he did for her family.

Or they could just start paying for all the bills he had acquired from St. Mungo's.

"Ron's just arrived," Potter finally said, disrupting the serene silence around them. Draco bit back the groan that tried to pass his lips. Hermione had been adamant about remaining friends after the Weasel broke up with her. In all the years since then, Draco could never find it in himself to forgive Weasley for breaking Hermione's heart. But, in a way, he was grateful to Weasley. If Weasley had never broken up with Granger, she would have never fallen in love with Draco Malfoy.

Draco didn't understand Hermione's loyalty to Weasley. But he was willing to tolerate him for Hermione's sake.

"He'll want to see her then," Draco said, keeping his eyes on Hermione. Potter nodded. "He can come in, Potter, but I'm not leaving her."

"I reckoned as much," mumbled Potter as he stepped back into the hallway. A moment later, Weasley entered the room, taking Potter's seat beside Hermione's bed. Unlike everyone else that day, Weasley didn't look tired from worry. He just looked angry. He was absolutely livid. And Draco knew all that anger was directed at him.

Weasley's anger was always directed at Draco. And this time Draco believed he deserved it.

"You should have been there," spat Weasley as he looked at Hermione.

"I know," replied Draco quietly. Scorpius peeked an eye open before twisting his small body around and falling back to sleep, his small blond head burrowed into his mother's shoulder.

"She should have been at the gala last night."

"I know," Draco muttered. These were, after all, the same things he had been telling himself all day.

"You should have forced her to go, it was _her _idea in the first place."

"Merlin, Weasley," snapped Draco, tired of Weasley's petulance. "I know I should have forced her to go. I know I should have stayed with Scorpius or left earlier from the gala. I can't change what happened. But don't think for a moment I have spent the last twenty-four hours wishing it was in that bed instead."

Weasley stared at Draco for a moment, the desire to argue apparent on his face. Instead, he looked back at Hermione. Weasley took a deep breath, willing himself to be patient. "I reckon I know why you went, though. Harry's never looked more idiotic." Draco chuckled softly. "I would have gone to the gala, too. Guess I feel a little guilty, too."

"Why?" Draco wanted to know. "It's not your fault." _It's mine_, Draco thought to himself. Weasley shrugged.

"Lavender didn't want to go." This didn't surprise Draco. During the Battle of Hogwarts, Lavender Brown had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback. She survived, but at the cost of numerous scars that covered her face. They were heroic scars, but still, eight years later, Lavender hated being public for too long. Even if they were all used to it. "When Hermione firecalled us, Lavender said she was willing to stay with Hermione while I went. But I convinced her to go with me."

"The same thing could have happened to Lavender," Draco pointed out.

"Well, Lav wanted to stay with Hermione. Scorp...is squeamish around Lavender because of all the scars. And Lav really didn't want to go to the gala. But...I was just so happy…"

"You wanted her to be there when you told everyone she's pregnant. There's nothing wrong with that." Weasley shrugged, not entirely convinced. But Draco knew with absolute certainty that all the blame should fall on him. And if Hermione didn't wake up, Draco wasn't sure what he would do.

"Should Scorpius be here?" Weasley asked after a brief pause in their conversation. "If you need someone to watch him–"

"He wanted to come," Draco explained, not letting himself dwell too much on _why _they suddenly had so many people willing to watch Scorp all of a sudden. "I was telling him a story before he fell asleep."

"A good story?" Weasley inquired. A small smile passed Draco's lips, his eyes trained on his wife and son.

"The best story."


	4. Part 4: Sorting Out Priorities

"When I said I wouldn't mind seeing you again, I didn't mean the very next day," Granger said pointedly. She tried to hide it, but Draco could clearly see the worry etched on her face.

"What can I say? I like to be proactive," Draco lied. He was currently lying on the familiar hospital bed in St. Mungo's, trying not to think of the numerous spells that had been shot at him because Potter refused to just sit in an office and do paperwork. Merlin, the man was a menace. All Draco had said was that he'd enjoyed his date with Hermione, wanted to see her again, and Potter chose the best way to ensure he'd see her immediately.

"Indeed," Granger replied. "And what happened to you this time?"

"I just fell down some stairs, no need to worry your pretty little head," he assured her.

"One of these days you're going to learn not to be so clumsy," Granger stated with a resigned sigh.

"Why do that? I start taking care of myself and these weekly visits are going to disappear. How will you be able to cope without your favorite patient?"

"Oh, I'll be just fine," Hermione said with a small, "he's just down the hall." Draco knew she was joking, but just to be certain he was going to take a trip down the hall when he was released. _For Merlin's sake, Draco,_ he thought to himself, _you've only gone on one date with the woman and you're already acting like the jealous boyfriend._ Draco was certain Granger wouldn't appreciate that in the least.

"Well, since I'm here," Draco said, pointedly changing the subject. "How about we get dinner?"

"It's three o'clock in the afternoon," she replied, confusion flickering across her face.

"I'm not saying right now. I'm saying tonight. You _did_ say you wanted to go out again." He added the last part with a smirk. Granger rolled her eyes.

"I also said only one date," she reminded him, carefully going over his paperwork. He was going to be released soon and she needed to make sure everything was in order.

"Well then, it's not a date," Draco told her. "It's two old classmates getting dinner after a near death experience." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you said that you fell down some stairs."

"Very magical stairs," he admitted. "They had their own wands and everything." Hermione turned her head away, but before she did, Draco caught a glimpse of the smile spreading across her face. "Is that a yes, Granger?" She shrugged.

"I suppose. Although, most friends call one another by their first names."

"That's seems a little too predictable."

* * *

Two months passed before Draco had to return to the hospital, but this time, he wasn't there because he fell down a few stairs. Instead, he was there because Granger had promised she was nearly done with a patient and would be along to dinner shortly. That was nearly an hour ago. Draco knew the moment she finished her training and began working as an actual Healer, she would be swept up into her work first and foremost.

Hannah was willing to stand and talk to him while they waited for Hermione to reappear from which ever room she desperately needed to visit one last time. "That girl works too hard," Hannah stated.

"Trust me, this is something about Granger that I'm well aware of." As though hearing her name, Hermione exited one of the rooms, surprise flying to her face when she realized who was waiting for her at the end of the hall. She quickly glanced at the time and winced.

"I didn't mean to be so late," she insisted, rushing over to where he was standing. He kissed her cheek.

"I know you didn't _mean_ to. Just like I didn't mean to miss our date last week when Potter made me work overtime on a case." Sure, he had been the one to insist they finish the work before heading home. They were just _so close_ to catching the guy. They'd only been together for two months and he was certain they wouldn't last two more if they kept going like this. "C'mon, we missed our reservations, but I'll still buy you dinner."

Granger hesitated noticeably, biting her lip thoughtfully as she looked back down the hall to one of the rooms. "I'll look after your patients," promised Hannah. "If you don't leave now, you're never going to." Hermione nodded.

Draco and Hermione sat at a table in a small restaurant, not far from St. Mungo's. The food was nothing compared to the food they'd have had at restaurant in Diagon Alley that Draco had made reservations for. But, all in all, the food wasn't terrible.

"How long did you wait at the restaurant?" Hermione asked quietly.

"I didn't mind the waiting," Draco said honestly. "It was the waitress that was horrendous. She came by three times to tell me that if you weren't coming she was going to have to give your chair away and that I needed to order something or leave. The rest of the restaurant kept giving me pity glances. One gentleman took the time to reassure that he too had been stood up and it wasn't a nice feeling."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Hermione hastened to say, but Draco could hear the laughter in her voice. Gently, he reached out and took her hand.

"Granger, if we keep doing this to one another, we're going to hit an inevitable end. Merlin, we might not notice it until we haven't seen each other in three months because we've been working so hard." She looked away and nodded. "Which is why I propose we prioritize this over our jobs."

"What do you mean?" she repeated.

"I mean let's put our relationship before work. I know it's a novelty of an idea and most would say it's too early for that kind of commitment. But...it's just work. And I refuse to lose you because of a job. There's always going to be patients and there's always going to be criminals. But there's people that can handle that when we're away. There's no one that replace us in this. Nor would I want them to. I-I like spending time with you."

Hermione thought for a moment. On one level Draco thought he was asking a lot of her. She had worked tirelessly for years trying to gain the position she now had. Their years at Hogwarts had proved how dedicated she was. But it also proved that she knew that books and cleverness could only do so much for a person in life. There were more important things.

Slowly, Hermione nodded. "Although," she said, grinning a little, "you could always just fall down some stairs if you wanted to see me." Draco chuckled.

"Suppose I could. And knowing Potter, it'll probably happen soon."

* * *

Draco was back at St. Mungo's the following week. When Granger asked, he told her Potter pushed him down the stairs.

He didn't tell her that Potter had found him in their office, blood streaming out of his ears because Draco was an idiot who forgot to check for hexes on his mail like he typically did. He didn't tell her that he had thought the letter was from her. And he certainly didn't tell her that their relationship was the reason he'd been injured.

He didn't tell her that because he knew she was already aware of this.

Instead, he kissed her gently and thanked her for fixing him up again.

The person who'd sent the letter was arrested the following week. The other Aurors might not care for Draco much, but they were not going to let one of their own be attacked without retribution. She proclaimed loudly that a _Death Eater_ shouldn't hold a position in Ministry, much less be with the Hermione Granger. She even claimed that Hermione was under a love potion.

Potter was livid, but it was Hermione Draco worried for. "Why can't they let the war be in the past?" Hermione asked when they saw the article about it in the _Daily Prophet_. "Why can't they just see that I _want_ to be with you?"

Draco didn't have an answer for her. These attacks on his life were more common than he was ever willing to let her know. The war was still fresh to those who lost someone because of Voldemort and his followers. Unfortunately, not everyone had a heroic death. And grief caused people to do crazy things.

* * *

"How long are you going to stare at me like that?" Draco wanted to know. If he had known saying that to Granger would cause her to lose the ability to speak. He'd have done so ages ago. Granger blinked as though drawing herself out of a dream.

"I said," Hermione recalled, "'are you here because you fell down some stairs?' And your response was 'I love you, Granger'?"

"That-that about sums it up." Draco concurred. Hermione frowned.

"Did you hit your head?"

"I'm here for a leg injury," he reminded her, not mentioning that she still needed to fix said injury.

"I know. But did something happen to your head?" Draco shook his head.

"Not that I know of. But you're Healer, so you'd be the expert." She raised her wand, performing a number of spells. Draco could feel the pain in his leg start to dissipate. She didn't say anything, but Draco was certain was checking to ensure nothing had happened to his head.

In truth, he hadn't meant to say it in the first place. She had walked into the room and smiled that perfect smile of hers. Shaking her head in exasperation. "It's only been a month since the last time you were here. Are you here because you fell down some stairs?" she asked cheekily.

Draco had a sudden vision of appearing in the hospital when he was old and grey. And Hermione looking at him in exasperation, asking him if he'd fallen down some stairs. And by Merlin, did Draco want that. He wanted to spend his life with Hermione Granger. And before he could think of any semblance of self-control, he'd blurted out, "I love you, Granger."

Hermione was frowning and biting her lip, slowly lowering her wand. Draco reached out, taking her hand in his own, pulling her closer to him. "I mean it Granger, I'm mad about you."

"We've only been together for four months," she stated.

"So? I'm not proposing, I'm just telling you that I love you."

"Draco…I...I–"

"It's okay if you can't say it yet," he reassured her, quickly covering the sudden disappointment growing inside of him. "I just–well...honestly, I wasn't going to tell you. It just...came out."

Hermione leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek before straightening, glancing over his injury once more. Everything was healing perfectly. He would be released soon. Before she left the room to tend her other patients, Hermione glanced back at Draco.

"If you love me, does that mean you're going to stop calling me Granger?" He looked at her as if she'd gone back.

"Never."

* * *

Initially, Draco had considered asking Hermione to marry him in the place where she told him she loved him for the first time. Somehow though, Draco couldn't imagine a world where he could take an alleyway he'd nearly died in and make it romantic.

They'd been having a lovely dinner a month and a half after he confessed his love for her. It was Hermione's idea to walk around after dinner, enjoying the warm, summer night. Neither had been expecting to suddenly be surrounded by five hooded figures and dragged into an alleyway. It hadn't taken long for Draco's training to kick in, and with Hermione's help,, they were able to neutralize the threat. But Draco had been hit hard. And he could see it in her eyes. She genuinely thought he was going to die.

"I love you," she told him quietly as she tried to steady herself. Tears were rolling down her face as she held her wand, trying to assess if Apparating him now would worsen the issue.

"Good," he rasped. She grabbed his hand and Apparated to St. Mungo's. He felt a spike of pain in his shoulder and he knew he'd been splinched. He supposed he could live without an arm if it meant, you know, that he got to live. He must have said this aloud because Hermione snorted as she leviated him onto a bed.

"Part of your arm was sliced, but not enough to take it off completely."

That was nice to hear. Hermione kissed his forehead and quickly eased him into sleep so she and the other Healers could work.

When Draco woke again, Hermione was sitting beside his bed, wearing the same dress she had been on their date. She'd probably been there all night, he realized. She looked brutally tired. "Not working this morning?" he said quietly.

"We prioritize each other, remember?" she shot back at him. Her words reminded him of what Hermione had said to him. A smirk crossed his face.

"You said you love me," he pointed out.

"Merlin knows why, but I do," she said with a sigh.

"I love you, too, Granger," he told her earnestly. She rolled her eyes.

"How long are you going to call me that?" She didn't sound angry in the least. Her affection had seeped into her words, alleviating any annoyance there could have been in her tone. She sat down beside him on the bed and took his hand.

"Love, we're going to be watching our grandchildren go off to Hogwarts and I'm still going to be calling you Granger." She frowned.

"Wouldn't that make me a Malfoy, then? If we're watching our grandchildren?"

"You're right. You _would_ be a Malfoy. But I'd still call you Granger because that's who you are. Hermione Granger, brightest witch of our year. The muggle-born smarter than any pureblood." She just kissed him in response.

Draco shook his head to clear his mind of the fond memory. He'd asked Potter's help a dozen times for this task, but he just shrugged and said to take her to a nice restaurant or to cook for her. How Potter ever managed to convinced Weaselette to marry him was beyond Draco.

Draco wanted this to be special. It had to be perfect. He just had to think of a good way to ask her. Briefly, he considered the hospital, since much of their relationship had been centered on the place, but he cast that idea from his mind. He didn't want the faint of dying people to corrode his moment.

In the end, he took Hermione to Hogwarts. The moment that wandered to the grounds of their old school after their romantic dinner at the Three Broomsticks, Draco could see that brain of hers working. She knew what it was coming, it was inevitable. He didn't let that discourage him, though. He was a man on a mission.

As they walked, Draco couldn't help but say, "Oh, look that's the place you punched me in third year."

"You deserved it," Hermione told him. He just laughed in response.

He led her to the Astronomy Tower, a place he hadn't been to since he'd tried to kill Dumbledore. He was glad he hadn't done it. What would his life become if he had gone through with it? He certainly wouldn't be standing beside Hermione now.

He leaned against the railing and looked at the view. He'd forgotten how beautiful his old school really was. He certainly didn't appreciate the view when he was younger, but he saw it all now. Even the war couldn't destroy this view.

Hermione walked over to him and entwined her arm with his, resting her head on his shoulder. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Draco spoke. "I'm not going to give you a long speech. I had one, but I don't remember most of it," he told her truthfully, looking down at her. "I brought you here because that night changed everything. Potter's surely talked to you about it." Merlin, Potter had even tried to broach the topic more than once with Draco. Potter might have been able to talk about that night, but Draco never could. He hated even thinking about that night. "That night I realized that I wanted Potter to win, this was before Voldemort invaded my home. I realized I didn't want to be the person that I'd been raised to be. That night changed everything, Hermione. If I hadn't had the strength to lower my wand, I don't think I'd have had the strength to lie about you three when you showed up in the Manor at Easter. I didn't see it as strength then, but I do now." He took a deep breath, debating what to say next.

"I thought you said this wasn't going to be a long speech," teased Hermione.

"The other one I had in mind was a lot longer," Draco protested. She smiled. She ran her hand through his hair affectionately, pushing a few rogue hairs back into place. He caught her and pressed it to his lips. "Don't think it's lost on me what I'm asking of you. I'm an ex-Death Eater and if people hated it when we were dating, it's only going to get worse when we're married. And on top of that, I'm an Auror with Potter has my partner. The man is simply too reckless and...it's not exactly a danger-free job. And, well, I'm from a long line of purebloods, Hermione. No one in my family has ever married a muggle-born. My parents won't be...pleased about it, not to mention the other pureblood families. But it's all just blood, right? I'm willing to turn my back on all of it. I do love you, Hermione." Slowly, not breaking eye contact with her, he dropped down to one knee. He had to get this right. He pulled out the small ring from his pocket. "Will you, Hermione Granger, marry me?"

A large smile spread across Hermione's face as she nodded happily. "Yes. Yes, I will marry you!"

Joy surged through him as he slipped the ring onto her finger before he captured her lips in a firm kiss.

* * *

They were married a year later. George took it upon himself to set off numerous fireworks throughout the evening, beginning when she was walking down the aisle. Draco never told George, but he was thankful for the fireworks, it distracted everyone from the tears that had welled in his eyes at the sight of Hermione walking down the aisle. She'd never looked lovelier.

"Told you, you'd need a handkerchief," Potter muttered in his ear. Had it been any other day, Draco would have snapped at Potter, and tell the man he was going to find someone else to be his best man. But today, Draco didn't care. His eyes were trained on Hermione was she walked towards him.

And when asked if he took this woman, it was the easiest decision in the world to say, "I do."


	5. Part 5: The End

Another owl swooped into the room, demanding Draco's attention. Seven days had passed. Seven excruciating days and still, Hermione had not woken. And Draco was keenly aware of what Hannah had told him. With every passing day, the likelihood of Hermione awaking was diminishing.

The first letter he had received was from Molly Weasley, explaining, yet again, that she would be more than willing to look after Scorpius while he was at the hospital. Draco had taken her up on that offer when Potter returned to his work five days ago. But now, he just wanted his son with him while he waited for Hermione to wake up.

The second letter was from Kingsley Shacklebolt, telling Draco that he would only be allowed another week off before he needed to return to work. Draco ignored the letter. An hour later, he received a letter from Potter, stating that he was going to try and buy Draco more time with Kingsley.

The letter Draco just received told Draco that Potter had succeeded. Kingsley implored him to focus on his wife until she was better. Draco supposed that being friends with Harry Potter did have some benefits. Or, rather, Auror partners with Harry Potter had some benefits. Because he was certainly not friends with Potter.

Hannah entered the room then, yawning tiredly. She'd been at St. Mungo's more than Draco had the past week. The poor woman had probably not been getting much sleep lately. When Draco brought it up to her, Hannah had just waved him off. "She's my friend, too," she stated.

"Where's my son?" Draco asked conversationally. Scorpius had begged Hannah to take him with her when she mentioned she was getting some tea. Draco assumed Scorp was just tired of this hospital room, Draco knew that he certainly was.

"Neville's with him," she explained. Draco nearly groaned. The last time Scorp spent time with Longbottom, he'd told Draco twenty times about a plant Uncle Neville had told him about. Draco wanted Scorp to be anything he wanted to be as long as it wasn't a Herbologist.

"Doesn't he have students he needs to teach?" murmured Draco.

"It's August. You do remember that Hogwarts starts in September, right?"

"Is it still August? Merlin, this month is never-ending." Draco's voice shook a little as his eyes fell on Hermione.

"You stopped telling her stories," observed Hannah. Draco scoffed.

"Come on, Hannah, you and I both know that does nothing."

"You're wrong," she said resolutely. "It does do something. Maybe not for her, but for you at least. Just keep talking. You never know what'll happen."

So, Draco did. He told her about their son and the joy he'd felt when she told him she was pregnant. He told her how she couldn't address his injuries anymore because they were married, but she always made time to stop by and ensure that her husband was okay. He told her that he give anything for a Time-Turner so that he could fix this.

And when his voice shook and ran out of things to say, he told her it all over again. And again. And again. Because it was the only thing he could do.

"...I still think he'd be a good Seeker. And he already adores Quidditch. Merlin, how great would it be, 'Mione, if he played on the national level? I know you hate Quidditch, but even you have to admit it'd be great." He looked off into the distance as though imagining it. "Though, I suppose he'd make a great Healer like you. As long as he doesn't try to leave school early to run his own joke shop, I'll think I'll be okay."

"Maybe he'd want to be an Auror like his dad," a voice said softly. At first, Draco thought she was hallucinating. He'd dreamed all week of hearing that voice. Instantly, his eyes snapped down to the woman laying on the bed. Hermione blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from her eyes, a smile forming on her face. "Hi, Draco."

"Say it again," his voice shook a little and tears formed in his eyes.

"Hi, Draco," she reiterated. At this, tears fell down his face rapidly, drawing her carefully into his arms. Relief was coursing through him. She'd awoken. She was here. Everything was going to be okay.

"I was scared," he admitted, kissing her quickly, as though life depended on it. Hermione pulled away from him, the grin still present on her face.

"It's good I don't treat you this way after you've been injured," she commented. "I'd have already died from worry." Draco kissed her soundly, idly wondering if he should tell Hannah that Hermione was awake.

"What happened, 'Mione?" he asked. "I came home to find you in a pile of blood." A large smile fell across her face as though it were Christmas. The sunlight streamed into the room giving her an angelic glow.

"I just fell down some stairs."


End file.
